


Touched for the Very First Time

by irritablevowel



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M, Humor, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12759405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irritablevowel/pseuds/irritablevowel
Summary: At 17, Usagi was ready for her relationship to progress past innocent kisses and cuddles. Mamoru . . . was not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic contains sexual situations. If you're not about that, turn back.
> 
> This fic is set firmly in the 90s anime canon, with the Mamoru who was a devoted but rather passionless boyfriend (especially compared to manga Mamoru).
> 
> I wrote this for someone. You know who you are.

 

To no one's surprise, Minako was the first to lose her V-card, shedding her virginity at 16 like an out-of-style jacket.

Snug in their usual booth at the arcade, Usagi wrinkled her nose, blushing and covering her face at Minako's graphic descriptions of her first time, screeching in horror and hiding with Ami behind a textbook as Minako talked about certain parts of the male anatomy in excruciating detail and used distressing words such as _foreskin_ and _pubes_. Makoto and Rei merely laughed, egging her on.

"Jeez, Meatball Head, keep it down," Rei scolded after yet another round of screeching interrupted Minako's tale. "If you're too immature for this why don't you go play video games with the other kids?"

"Shut up, Rei," she said, sticking out her tongue.

Rei scoffed, refusing to take the bait. "Thank you for proving my point."

Makoto laughed, shaking her head. "I'll never understand how you managed to face Galaxia but a little cock talk sends you running."

"Mako-chan!" she wailed, blushing uncomfortably at the utterance of the c-word. "Come on, it's gross!"

Rei leaned over. "Just because you're the only one of us who hasn't even reached first base yet doesn't make it gross."

"So what if I—" Usagi froze, then slowly turned away from the three smirking faces across from her to look at Ami, her eyebrows raised in shock. "Ami?! You've gone to first base?!"

The shy girl merely buried her head farther into her book with a strangled squeak.

Minako reached across the table to pat her princess's hand reassuring. "It's OK, Usagi. You'll get there eventually. Who knows, you might even like it," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Usagi could hear the good-natured laughter of her friends as she fled their table for the far less distressing embrace of the arcade. When she looked back after settling in front of Ace Racer, her hands firmly gripping the plastic steering wheel, she saw Minako, Makoto, and Rei talking and giggling, while Ami (the traitor) sat with her nose still buried in her textbook, blushing to the tips of her ears.

No matter, she thought, turning to her game. So what if she was immature? If being immature meant being content with the innocent kisses and cuddles she shared with her Mamo-chan, then so be it. She was happy and that was all that mattered. And as for the rest . . . well, she would get there eventually.

* * *

"Usagi! Usagi!" Luna shook the sleeping teen as best she could with her small paws. "Wake up!"

Usagi awoke with a gasp, breathing heavily after her intense dream.

"Wh—what's going on?"

"You were having a nightmare," Luna explained as Usagi's breath began to even out.

"I was?" Usagi reached an unsteady hand up to rub her face and found it damp with sweat.

"You were moaning and breathing hard . . . I'm sorry I woke you up but I wasn't sure what else to do."

She shook her head, trying to remember her dream. Endymion had been in it . . . she knew that much.

"Is everything OK?" Luna asked.

"Yeah," she said, sitting up and throwing off the covers. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

Usagi quietly made her way down the dark hallway, careful not to wake any family members. Flicking on the bathroom light, she squinted at her reflection, surprised by how flushed her face looked. But she was even more shocked when she pulled down her pajamas bottoms and realized her underwear was soaking wet. What on Earth had she dreamed about to cause _that_ to happen?

Sitting on the toilet, she tried to remember her dream as she blotted her damp panties with toilet paper. Despite the evidence, she wasn't convinced that she had had a nightmare.

She recalled Endymion's beautiful face hovering over hers and felt her cheeks flush again as snippets of the dream began coming back to her. They had been in their secret meeting place, one she had seen many times before in her dreams. They had been kissing . . . yes, that's it. They were kissing, and then . . .

Usagi's blush deepened as she began to remember her dream more fully. How his insistent tongue parted her lips and delved into her mouth. How she had grasped his hair, pulling him closer as he left her breathless in a way Mamoru's polite kisses never had. How he had lifted the hem of her skirts, running a teasing finger up her thigh. How she had moaned when he . . .

Oh.

_Oh god._

Quickly cleaning herself up, she willed her mind to focus on anything but the dream. She splashed cold water on her face until the flush finally died down, then returned to bed, vowing to put it from her mind.

The next day she could hardly look at Mamoru without blushing, but his kisses remained chaste and things soon returned to normal.

That is, until her next even more explicit dream several weeks later.

"You were having another nightmare," Luna explained with narrowed eyes after shaking her awake again.

"Uh, right," Usagi rasped out, trying to subtly remove her hand from her soaked panties, "a nightmare. I'm just gonna run to the bathroom . . ."

This time, it took more than a few splashes of cold water on her face for Usagi to remove the image of Endymion's head between her legs from her mind.

Still, it was a few more weeks before Usagi reached her true breaking point.

She and Mamoru had been enjoying a picnic at the park when they were caught in a sudden cloudburst. Swearing and laughing and shrieking and instantly soaked to the bone, they packed up their lunch and blanket as fast as they could and dashed to a nearby tree that helped shield them from the storm.

Usagi was wringing the water from her pigtails when she caught sight of Mamoru. Time seemed to slow as he threw his drenched head back and pushed the wet hair from his face. Rivulets of rainwater ran down his face and neck and onto his chest, further soaking his practically transparent white shirt, clinging to his toned muscles. Usagi blushed as he ran a hand over his face—so like Endymion's—his fingers momentarily catching on wet lips, imagining her hands and lips taking their place.

"Are you feeling OK, Usako?" he asked after noticing her staring.

"Oh, uh . . . yeah!" she said, quickly returning to her attempt to wring out her hair.

"Are you sure?" he asked, moving closer to place a hand on her forehead. "You look awfully red . . . you didn't catch a chill, did you?"

"I'm fine!" she said, batting his hand away. Unfortunately, his close proximity only caused her blush to deepen, and as soon as the rain stopped, he insisted on taking her straight home to her mother's tender care.

That night, when Luna once again woke her up from a "nightmare" (in which Usagi dreamed that she and Mamoru were doing scandalous things below that tree), Usagi kicked her out of the room, stuck her hand back down her panties, and allowed her imagination to finish what her dream had started.

* * *

At 16, Usagi had been content with her innocent, chaste relationship. But at 17, she was ready for more. She wasn't quite sure what she was ready for, but she knew she wanted more than what she was getting. Thankfully, she had absorbed enough knowledge from her friends to know what came first.

Step 1: Get to first base.

Usagi's first attempt to initiate a proper make-out session with Mamoru was during one of their study sessions. That typically meant that Usagi would come over and badger Mamoru into helping her with her homework as he attempted to study, but this time she had other plans.

She showed up prepared, making sure her outfit was extra cute and her lips were extra kissable thanks to her favorite cherry-flavored lip-gloss. Much to her frustration, however, Mamoru was wholly engrossed in his task, barely glancing up from his homework all afternoon.

Finally, after her fourth snack break, she plopped down beside him on the floor, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Usa . . ." Mamoru said, trying to shake her off. "Usa would you stop, please?"

"Why?" she pouted.

"Because I have a really important exam tomorrow and I need to concentrate on reviewing this material."

"Well I think it's time for a break," she said, leaning in for a kiss.

"No, it isn't," he said, firmly pushing her back. "Do you see how much I still have to review?"

She looked at the materials spread across his coffee table as he immediately returned to his studies. Frowning, she considered her options.

"Fine, well, I guess I'll just go then," she said, deciding to play hard-to-get. She stood and gathered her things, making sure to bend over in his direction as much as possible to show off her just how short her short skirt was.

"OK," he said without looking up. "Have a safe trip home."

_Strike one_

The next attempt was under much more favorable conditions . . . or so she thought. They were spending an enjoyable late-summer afternoon at the zoo, strolling hand-in-hand among the exhibits, taking in the antics of the various animals.

She had decided to up the ante by wearing her new sundress, which, when paired with a cleavage-boosting strapless bra, really showcased her . . . bountiful attributes. Attributes which, unfortunately, Mamoru seemed completely oblivious to. All day he had managed to dodge her kisses, and she was growing increasingly desperate.

"Usako, what are you doing?" he asked after she pressed herself against his side yet again.

"Don't you think it's chilly in this penguin exhibit, Mamo-chan?" she said, subtly squeezing her arms together to emphasize her bust even more. "Can you help warm me up?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you should have brought a sweater, Usa. That dress is awfully skimpy, isn't it?"

"Or, maybe you could kiss me?" she suggested, batting her eyelashes.

Mamoru's eyes widened. "There are _children_ here, Usa," he hissed through clenched teeth.

_Strike two_

It took a few weeks for Usagi to work up the nerve for another attempt, but finally the stage was set. They were having a quiet Friday night in, watching a romantic movie while snuggling on the couch.

"Ugh, this is so frustrating! They should just confess their feelings," she said after yet another misunderstanding drove the movie couple apart.

"I'm sure they'll work it out," Mamoru said, grabbing a handful of popcorn and popping a few kernels in his mouth. "This is a romcom, after all."

Sure enough, only a few minutes went by before they were back on track.

"I love you, Natsuki," the aloof male love interest said as they stood in the snow.

"I love you too, Kento," the quirky female lead echoed back, nearly slipping on some ice as she leaned in for a kiss.

Usagi looked up at Mamoru, determination in her eyes.

This was it.

She was going for it.

She took a breath, then brought her hand up to caress his cheek, using it to gently turn his head toward her.

He blinked down at her, but quickly understood what she wanted and leaned down for a quick kiss.

"Mamo-chan," she pouted, turning his head back to her once again, "I need more."

He chuckled, leaning down for another peck, which soon turned into more. She shifted herself toward him, wrapping one hand behind his neck while the other grasped at his hair. He opened his eyes, a little surprised by her forwardness.

Usagi could feel her heart racing as she lengthened the kisses, preparing for her big move. Finally, her lips parted and her tongue darted out, slipping into Mamoru's mouth. He breathed in sharply before grasping her shoulders, pushing her back slightly.

"Usa . . . wh—what are you doing?"

"I told you," she said, pushing him down onto the couch and straddling him, "I need _more_."

He stared up in shock as she kissed him again, his eyes widening when her tongue once again swept into his mouth. But when her hands began to wander, coming dangerously close to the growing bulge in his pants, he shot up, pushing her off of him.

"Oh, gosh, um, you know what?" he said a little too loudly. "I _totally_ forgot that I had a study group tonight!"

Usagi stared up at him from the couch, looking slightly ruffled and very confused. "Mamo-chan, it's Friday."

"Yep, that's right! Friday study group. Yep."

"But, the movie isn't even done . . ."

"Sorry, they'll be here soon!" he said, grabbing her purse and holding it out for her. "You need to go."

"But Mamo-chan—"

" _You need to go_ ," he repeated, still holding her purse out.

She had barely stepped through the front door before he shut and locked it behind her.

_Strike three . . . you're out!_

She sighed and pulled out her phone as she began her trek home. This was clearly beyond her expertise. Time to pull out the big guns.

 _Crown tomorrow 2?_ she shot off in a text. _Need boy advice._

The reply came quickly.

_Im there. –V_


	2. Chapter 2

"Motoki-onii-san!" Minako called as soon as she stepped through Crown's doors the next day, earning the attention of most of the people inside. "One strawberry shake, please!"

His thumbs up earned him a dazzling smile.

"So," Minako said as she joined Usagi at her booth, "what's the T? Trouble in paradise?"

"Hello to you too, Mina," Usagi grumbled, swirling her melting milkshake with her straw.

"Hey I'm only . . ." she paused, checking her phone, "20 minutes late! Better late than clever, right? And I'm here now, so spill!"

Usagi sighed, taking a long sip of her milkshake. She looked up as the arcade's doors opened again, this time revealing her boyfriend. They briefly made eye contact before he blushed and hurried to his usual spot at the counter.

"I don't know what's wrong, Minako," she finally admitted, shaking her head. "I don't even know anything is wrong, to be honest."

"Well, why don't you tell me what's worrying you, and we'll go from there?" Minako suggested.

"It's just that . . . well, lately, I thought it might be nice to, y'know . . . be a little . . . intimate."

Minako's eyebrows shot up at this pronouncement, but she quickly recovered and leaned forward, unwilling to miss a word of what was coming. "Go on . . ."

"But Mamo-chan, he . . . well, I feel like he keeps brushing me off."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, the other day we went to the zoo, right? And I was wearing that new dress—"

"The one that shows off your boobs? It's super cute."

"Uh-huh, and I looked _really_ cute and my boobs looked _really_ good, but he wouldn't even kiss me at all!"

Minako frowned.

"And that isn't the first time that has happened, either," Usagi added.

"One strawberry milkshake," Motoki interrupted, setting her order on the table. "Extra whipped cream with a cherry, just like you like it."

"Thank you, onii-san!" Minako said, batting her eyelashes at him as he made his way back to the counter.

"What do you mean?" she asked after turning back to Usagi. "Why wouldn't he kiss you? I've seen you guys kiss plenty of times!"

"Sure, but those are just kisses, you know? I want to _kiss_."

"Oooh, you've got a hankerin' for a hot make-out sesh, huh?" Minako said with a smirk as she plucked the cherry from her milkshake and popped it in her mouth.

"Exactly! But like, last night we were at his place, right? And I was like, I'm gonna go for it! And I did! And then I reached down, and . . ."

/

"I think I'm in trouble, Motoki," Mamoru said as his friend set a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Is everything OK?" he asked, quickly replacing the hot carafe and returning to his spot across from Mamoru.

"It's Usako," he said darkly.

"Oh god . . . is she . . ." Motoki leaned across the counter, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "Did you knock her up?"

Mamoru's head shot up, a scandalized expression on his face. "I can't even believe you would suggest that, Motoki."

"Well, I don't know, man!" he said. "So what _is_ the problem?"

Mamoru shook his head. "If anything it's the opposite."

"What, like you can't get it up?"

/

"God, Minako, seriously?" Usagi said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I don't know! It's not unheard of, you know. Even guys his age can have that problem."

"I'm pretty sure that's not the issue because I know I felt _something_ in his pants before he made up some lame excuse and made me leave."

/

"So let me get this straight. You've been dating for three years and you haven't done _anything?_ "

"Is that really so hard to believe?"

Motoki craned his head to get a clear view of Usagi, who was leisurely licking the end of her milkshake straw. He turned back to Mamoru. "Yes."

"She's too young, Motoki," Mamoru said, taking a sip of coffee as Motoki stared at him in shock.

"Too young? She's 17!"

"Exactly."

"I don't know, man . . . " he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's at that age where she should be the one to decide what she's ready for, not you."

"Hey, you're the one who said she was too young to begin with!"

"I _did_?" he asked, crossing his arms. "When?"

"Back just before she and I started dating . . . you said that she and the girls were like little sisters or something."

"Dude, that was _three years ago._ Of _course_ she was too young at 14! But 17?"

"She's still in high school, Motoki," Mamoru said, taking another sip of coffee.

"Yeah but not for much longer . . ."

/

Minako tapped her chin. "Maybe it's curved or something . . ."

Usagi's eyes widened. "They can curve?"

"Sure, dicks can be all sorts of shapes and sizes," she said matter-of-factly. "They curve up, curve down, curve to the side, they can be short, long, skinny, fat, growers, showers—"

"Minako," Usagi said, cutting off her friend, "how many of them have you seen, exactly?"

She shrugged. "I watch a lot of gay porn."

Usagi rolled her eyes. "Fine, but honestly? I don't really care what it looks like. If it's Mamo-chan, I'm sure it will be perfect."

Minako sipped on her milkshake, pondering the situation. "Do you think maybe he's just not ready? I mean, I know he's 21 but this _is_ Mamoru we're talking about . . ."

Usagi shook her head. "I don't think so. He dated a bit before we met and I don't think he had this issue back then."

"How do you know?"

"Motoki likes to tease him about it. Something about a drunken lap dance at a party . . ."

/

"You didn't seem to have this issue when you gave Sayuri that lap dance freshman year—"

"God Motoki, are you ever going to get over that?" he said as Motoki laughed.

"Never!" Motoki said, wiping a tear from his eye. "It was one of best moments of my life!"

"Look, I was totally wasted. And besides, she was just some girl I didn't even care about.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up. Just some girl? She's the top architecture student!"

"You know what I mean, Motoki. It's just . . . she's nothing like Usa. Sayuri likes to party and went out with plenty of guys before me. But Usako . . ." Mamoru sighed, glancing over at his girlfriend briefly. "She's everything that's pure and good in this world, Motoki."

/

"Random question, but does Mamoru watch porn?"

Usagi nodded. "Yeah, he doesn't know I know, but I found his secret stash like the third time I went over there."

"Of course you did," Minako nodded approvingly. "What kind of stuff does he like?"

"Umm, I seem to remember some set in hostess clubs and stuff along those lines," she said, scrunching up her nose as she tried to recall the covers. "Oh, and a bunch from the _Naughty Sluts_ series."

" _Naughty Sluts,_ huh?" Minako smirked. "Oh, Mamoru. It is all becoming clear to me."

/

"I think I know what's going on here," Motoki said as he refilled Mamoru's mug.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep," he said, setting down the carafe. "Three words: Madonna-whore complex."

/

"Madonna-what?" Usagi asked, scrunching up her nose. "Like the singer?"

"No, no." Minako shook her head. "Madonna-whore complex. Basically, it means that to him there are two types of women: innocent virgins who aren't to be touched, like you, and slutty sluts who are for having sex with."

"Like you?"

"Exactly," Minako said, nodding. "Like . . . well, not like _me,_ but yes, _like_ me."

/

"Motoki, there's no way I have that idiotic complex."

"Look, all I'm saying is that you're still treating her like she's a child when she's not. I mean, look at her!" he said, turning Mamoru's shoulders so he was facing toward Usagi's booth. "She's gorgeous, got legs for days, and has an amazing rack. Face it dude, your girl is a babe and ripe for the picking."

Mamoru sputtered at Motoki's words as he spun back around on his stool. "That's my future wife you're talking about!"

"Yeah well, the thing about marriages is that they are ideally consummated."

Mamoru stared at Motoki for a few moments before deflating and hanging his head in defeat.

/

"So . . . I just need to make Mamo-chan see me as a mature, sexual woman?"

"Exactly," Minako said, rubbing her hands together. "And I know just how to do it. C'mon, let's go!"

"What? Right now?" Usagi said as Minako gathered her things.

"Yep! The early bird is worth two hands in your bush!"

/

Mamoru sighed as he watched Minako drag Usagi out of the café. "What am I going to do, Motoki?"

"Honestly, dude?" Motoki began. "What she wants is totally normal. She's not some innocent little girl whose purity needs to be protected."

"You just don't get it, Motoki," Mamoru insisted.

"So tell me."

Mamoru sighed and shook his head. "I . . . I have my reasons, OK?"

"Well that clears things up," Motoki said, rolling his eyes. "Look, are you serious about her? About your relationship?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then you're going to have to deal with this sooner or later. And I'm not saying go have sex with her right away, but fool around a little bit, y'know? Play some tonsil hockey. Feel her boobs. Let her touch your dick."

Mamoru groaned, letting his head fall to the counter with a thud.

"Just go with it," Motoki said, patting Mamoru's head. "It's really not that complicated."

* * *

Usagi tried not to feel self-conscious as she teetered unsteadily down the hallway to Mamoru's apartment wearing more make-up and higher heels than she'd ever worn in her life. Reaching his door, she tightened the trench coat Minako loaned her and checked her make-up one last time. Normally, of course, she just let herself in . . . but this was hardly a normal night. Satisfied that everything was in place, she took a deep breath, and knocked.

Mamoru's wary face was soon revealed as the door cracked open. She smiled, cocking her head coyly as Minako had instructed her.

"Usa?" he said, his face paling slightly as he took in her appearance. Her cherry-red lips and subtly smoky eyes were artfully done; she looked more grown up than he had ever seen and undeniably beautiful, no doubt thanks to Minako's practiced hand. But she looked very un-Usagi-like, and it unnerved him.

"Can I come in?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.

Mamoru said nothing, simply moving back to let her pass. He followed her as she sashayed her way to the living room, his palms growing sweatier by the second, nervous about what she might be expecting from the evening. When she sat on the sofa, he joined her, perching uncomfortably on the opposite cushion and kept his eyes trained forward.

"So, Mamo . . . _Mamoru_ ," she began, causing his eyebrows to rise in shock.

"Mamoru?" he echoed weakly.

She nodded, giving him a look that turned his insides to sawdust. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"N-No," he stuttered, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. "I was just studying."

"I see," she said, scooting closer to him. He jumped slightly when she brought a teasing finger to his ear. "How about studying something else for a while?"

"I uh . . ." He turned toward her, swallowing at the determination he saw in her beautifully amplified eyes. Taking a deep breath, he repeated Motoki's advice in his head. _Just go with it . . . just go with it . . ._

"OK," he told her.

She couldn't help breaking into a wide grin at his consent. Mamoru felt a bit heartened by her smile, relieved to see a bit of the real Usagi peeking through as she nervously closed the gap left between them on the couch.

"May I kiss you?" she asked, softly tracing his jaw line with her fingertips.

He nodded, closing his eyes as she leaned into him and pressed her lips to his.

At first, the kiss was much like any of their other kisses—innocent and sweet—but they both knew it wouldn't stay that way long. Mamoru repeated his silent mantra as he felt Usagi start to deepen the kiss.

_Just go with it . . . just go with it . . ._

Keeping his eyes shut tight, he focused on the sensation of the kiss and did his best not to think of the fact that it was Usagi doing the kissing.

And, shockingly, it seemed to be working.

He parted his lips to grant her access, tilting his head slightly to get a more comfortable angle. He felt her tongue once again, but this time he willed himself to respond, hesitantly teasing her back, their tongues dancing and playing. He felt himself start to relax as he grew accustomed to the situation. Usagi began to grow a little bolder, nibbling and sucking as she experimented.

To Mamoru, who was somehow ignoring all of the warning bells in his head (as long as his eyes stayed closed), things seemed to be going amazingly well. So he was a bit surprised when Usagi pulled back and climbed off of the couch, wondering if she was satisfied for the evening. But, when he opened his eyes, he found a coy look on her face.

"I have a little surprise for you," she said, untying the belt around her trench coat.

_Just go with it just go with it just go with it just go with it . . ._

He watched in shock as she opened the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing a matching set of pink lingerie. The lacy bra left little to the imagination, while the high-waisted panties showed off her long legs and the soft curve of her belly and hips. Flirty pink straps attached to the bottom of the bra crisscrossed around her midriff, highlighting her slender waist. It was undeniably sexy, and he shifted uncomfortably as he felt his body responding.

"Usa, wh—what are you wearing?"

A nervous blush reddened her cheeks at his shocked stare. "Do you like it?"

_JUST GO WITH IT JUST GO WITH IT JUST GO WITH IT . . ._

He swallowed. "It's uh . . . it's nice . . ."

She smiled at him in a way that made him lightheaded. Every nerve in his body felt on edge as she moved back to the couch and sat down beside him. He couldn't tear his eyes from her, watching in horror as she moved her hand toward the bulge in his pants . . .

_JUSTGOWITHITJUSTGOWITHITJUSTGO—_

Finally he snapped, unable to ignore the sirens now blaring in his head. Leaping from the couch, he ran straight into the bathroom, firmly locking the door behind him.

Usagi quickly threw the trench back on and hurried after him.

"Mamo-chan? What's wrong?" she asked, knocking on the door.

"Nothing!"

"Can I come in?" she asked, rattling the knob.

"No!"

She frowned, knocking again. "C'mon, Mamo-chan, what's the matter?"

"Nothing! Please go away!"

"Is it your dick? Is it curved?" she asked as a strangled cry came from the other side of the door. "Because Mamo-chan, I promise I don't care! I'll love it no matter what!"

"It's not . . . it's not curved, okay? Please just leave me alone!"

Usagi sighed, wondering where she had gone wrong in her sexy night of seduction, knowing it was all over.

"Is it me?" she asked, pressing her forehead against the door. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I can't . . . I don't want to talk about this right now, Usa."

"You're being very childish, you know!"

She waited for a response, but one never came.

"Fine!" she yelled, smacking the door angrily with her palm. "Just stay in there! But you can't keep avoiding this. You can't keep avoiding _me_ , Mamo-chan."

She sighed as she retied the belt around the trench coat. As she stared at the door that separated Mamoru from her, her anger gave way to sadness. Why did he have to keep pushing her away? Why couldn't they just be happy?

"I'm gonna go," she told him softly. "Call me when you're ready to talk."

By the time Mamoru left the safe confines of the bathroom, Usagi was long gone.

Across Azabu, two blondes received the same text message from their best friends:

_It didn't work._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! The last one will be quite a bit more serious as they deal with Mamoru's issues for real. Will Usagi get her happy ending? (ha ha ha)
> 
> Thanks again to FloraOne for her feedback and cheerleading! :) And thank you to everyone who gave kudos/bookmarked/commented on the first chapter. I'm so glad people are liking it!


	3. Chapter 3

The following afternoon, Usagi once again found herself knocking on Mamoru's front door. Although she was back in her normal clothing and wearing considerably less make-up, she felt far more nervous than she did the night before, and for good reason; his rejections had left her usually unflappable confidence shaken.

He had texted her early that morning, asking her to come over so they could talk. She knew she was the one who had asked for them to talk in the first place, but seeing as how the previous night had gone . . .

Usagi sighed, biting her lip. She just didn't know what to think anymore. What did he want out of their relationship? Would it really be possible for them to have the kind of relationship she wanted? How long could this possibly go on?

"Usako," Mamoru said as he opened the door, his face a neutral mask, "thank you for coming."

Foregoing her usual cheerful greeting, she nodded, stepping past him to enter. Silently she followed him into the living room and sat at the end of the couch, fidgeting uncomfortably as he sat on the opposite end. They sat awkwardly, each studiously avoiding looking at the other, neither knowing how to break the silence.

"I uh . . ." Mamoru paused, clearing his throat before beginning again. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Usa. About what's been going on between us."

She turned to look at him, her eyebrows knit together in worry. "OK . . ."

"First," he continued, "I need to apologize to you. I haven't been treating you like you deserve and I'm sorry."

Usagi's face softened, her nerves easing a bit. "Thank you, Mamo-chan. I appreciate that."

"I did a lot of thinking after you left. Last night, when you said I was being childish, it really shocked me."

Usagi blushed. "Sorry, Mamo—"

"No, no," he interrupted. "You were right. That's why it shocked me so much. I realized that I'd been telling myself you're too young, you're still a child, but . . . you grew up, Usa, and now I'm the one being a child."

"No, Mamo-chan, you're not a child, you're just . . . uh . . ." Usagi scrunched up her face as she mulled over how best to finish the sentence.

"A jerk?" Mamoru suggested.

"Not really the word I was looking for," Usagi said, playfully tugging on his shirtsleeve, "but you have been known to be a jerk, sometimes."

"At least I'm not as bad as when we met, right, Meatball Head?" he teased, reaching out a hand to poke an odango.

"I don't know," she said, tapping her chin, "you sure haven't been very nice to me lately."

"I know, I'm sorry, Usa . . ."

Usagi looked down and picked at an invisible thread on her skirt. "Minako thinks you have a Madonna-whore complex."

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Mamoru sighed.

Usagi grinned and shook her head.

"Motoki seems to think so too, the idiot."

"So . . . do you?"

Mamoru groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. "No, Usa. I know Minako thinks she knows everything there is to know about sex but trust me, I don't have that complex."

She narrowed her eyes. "OK . . . but then why does Motoki think that you do, too?"

"He doesn't get it," he explained as he sat back up. "He only knows a little part of the story. You know it's not possible to tell him everything."

"About our past, you mean?"

"Our past, our present, our future . . ." Mamoru ran an agitated hand through his hair. "It's just everything, Usa. It really weighs on me. I didn't realize how much I've been letting it affect our relationship."

"Oh, Mamo-chan," Usagi said, scooting closer to him, "is that what's wrong? You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right?"

"I know, I just . . . you have dealt with so much already. I don't want to burden you even more," he said. "Honestly, I'm surprised it doesn't affect you, too."

"It does, sometimes," she admitted, tracing small circles on his hand. "Sometimes I get scared that our happiness will end again. Sometimes I remember how lonely I was when you were gone and how much I missed you and I worry that you'll disappear again."

"Oh, Usa . . ."

"But," she continued, "I also know that no matter what, I will do my best, just like always, and I know that in the end things will work out."

"How do you know?" he asked. "How can you be so certain things will work out?"

"Because they always do, Mamo-chan," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Things didn't work out so well for us in our past life when the whole damn world ended, Usa."

She smiled, shaking her head at his pessimism. "Yes, but we were given another chance! We were born here in this time to be happy; to be together," she said, grasping his arm. "Don't you see? Yes, what happened was a tragedy but that's not going to happen again. I won't let it."

Mamoru sighed. "It's pretty hard to convince myself of that sometimes."

"But you've been to the future—you know that everything will be OK," she insisted.

"We've been to _a_ future, Usa, not _the_ future. There are no guarantees that things will turn out that way."

"So what?" she said, taking his hands in hers. "Instead of having that happy future we could have a different happy future."

"Or another unhappy, tragic one," he said, shaking his head.

Usagi looked at him sadly. "You need to place more faith in us _,_ Mamo-chan, because one thing I have learned over and over is that we are stronger together and that we always— _always_ —find our way back to each other." She smiled, squeezing his hands. "Mamo-chan, our love is so strong even death can't stop us from being together. And whatever happens in the future, we will face it together, right?"

Mamoru closed his eyes as the truth of her words struck deep within him. They had been through so much . . . and yet here they were. The sheer power of her heart had saved the world—the entire universe. And she had saved him, too, time and time again. He had been gravely injured, brainwashed, had his memories wiped, even died . . . but she, the amazing woman beside him, had always saved him, always brought him back. She had every right to demand faith from him. And, he realized, he needed to let go and give it to her—the same undying faith that she had earned from her senshi.

"You aren't alone anymore, Mamo-chan," she said, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Your burdens are my burdens."

Mamoru sighed, wrapping his arm around her. "Why are you so good to me, Usako?"

"Because I love you," she said, looking up at him. "I would do anything for you."

"I love you too, Usa." He leaned down and kissed her softly.

Blushing, she leaned her forehead against his chest. "Mamo-chan, I . . . I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"For yesterday," she said into his chest. "I'm sorry that I made you so uncomfortable. I thought if you could see me all grown up and sexy it would help but . . . it didn't."

He sighed, rubbing her arm. "Yes, you looked sexy, but to tell you the truth," he said, bringing a hand below Usagi's chin, gently nudging her until she was looking at him once again, "I prefer you like this."

"You do?"

He nodded slowly and leaned down, kissing her again.

"This Usako here in my arms, the Usako who isn't trying so hard, the Usako who's just being herself . . . that's the Usako I like the best."

"Mamo-chan . . ."

Usagi sighed happily as he once again caught her lips with his own. And when he deepened the kiss. . . well, she thought she might have been back in her dreams. He was doing magical things with his tongue—expertly probing her mouth and leaving her breathless.

She leaned into him, wrapping one arm around his neck and letting the other rest on his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt. Mamoru brought a hand to her face, gently cupping her cheek and tracing lazy circles with his thumb. Desire shot through her like a bolt of lightning at his touch, settling deep within her.

Deciding that she needed to get closer, Usagi shifted to bring her leg across his lap, straddling him. As the crotch of her panties came in contact with the growing bulge in his pants, she arched involuntarily, letting out a gasp of pleasure. She grabbed his shoulders, steadying herself. But when she looked at him, she felt as if she had been drenched in ice water. Any trace of desire had disappeared from his face, replaced with the familiar look of mounting panic.

"Mamo-chan?" she asked uncertainly. "Is everything OK?"

"I uh . . ." He stared at her, breathing heavily, then quickly shifted her off of his lap as he attempted to get off of the couch.

"No!" she shouted, reaching out to grab his arm before he got too far. "You are _not_ doing this again, Mamo-chan."

He collapsed back onto the couch beside her, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Usa . . ."

"Mamo-chan, what's going on? What is it?"

"I . . . I don't know," he said, rubbing his face.

"Is it me?" she asked. "Did I do something? Just tell me, please!"

"I don't know!" Mamoru sat back on the sofa, his hands covering his face. "I don't know . . ."

"But why . . . I mean, it seemed to be going so well."

Mamoru sighed, letting his hands fall. "It was."

"So what happened?" She gently rested a hand on his knee, doing her best to ignore the way he flinched at her touch. "Please, Mamo-chan, you have to tell me."

He shook his head, trying to find the words. "It's almost like . . . an alarm going off, a feeling of panic in my gut, telling me I have to get away. That I have to stop."

"That you have to stop being intimate with me?"

"I . . . I guess."

She withdrew her hand, placing it in her own lap. "Is that what you want?"

"No!" He reached out, grasping her shoulder. "No, Usa, please don't think that."

"I don't know what to think!" she said, hanging her head.

His hand fell from her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Usa."

"I just don't understand," she said after a moment of silence. "It was never like this before."

"Before?"

She turned to look at him, unshed tears in her eyes. "In our past lives," she said. "Don't you remember when we used to meet in your garden? What we used to do when we were alone, away from our guards?"

Mamoru sighed. "I remember," he said softly.

"Do you remember the way you used to look at me," she said, placing her hand on his, "the ways you would kiss me and touch me . . . Mamo-chan, I dream about those meetings and . . . it makes me want you so badly, makes me need you so badly, Mamo-chan. Don't you think of me like that? Don't you dream about those times?"

"I . . . I used to. A long time ago. But not anymore."

She squeezed his hand in concern. "What happened? What changed?"

"They . . . they got replaced. By other dreams."

Her stomach turned cold at his words. "What kind of dreams?"

He turned to face her. "The kind of dreams where you die when I kiss you."

"Oh my god," she said, feeling her face growing pale, "is King Endymion still sending those dreams to you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "but that doesn't stop them from coming."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not like I have them every night. And besides, we dealt with that so long ago . . ."

"Obviously we didn't! Mamo-chan, really? I can't believe this," she said, crossing her arms and sitting back on the couch. "God, I'm going to _strangle_ future you for this!"

"I'm so sorry, Usako," he said, reaching out to rub her arm.

"No, I'm not mad at you, Mamo-chan. It just . . . makes me wonder . . ."

"Wonder what?"

"The alarms in your head—why you won't be intimate with me." She turned to face him. "I wonder if maybe deep down you still think I could die if you get too close or something."

Mamoru's hand stilled. "Oh my god . . ."

He thought back to the nightmares. Though they were now a mere echo of what they once were, they were still potent enough to give him flashes of dread and panic—the same feelings of dread and panic that he felt when things with Usagi got too intense. How had he failed to realize this—to make the obvious connection?

"I can't believe this. All this time I've been pushing you away, all because of those stupid dreams?"

Mamoru slumped back, attempting to process the revelation that the misguided stunt the lonely king had pulled on him so long ago could be affecting his relationship with his beloved so many years later. He felt used and betrayed and not unlike a lab rat—the result of an experiment gone awry.

"Mamo-chan," Usagi asked, pulling him from his thoughts, "do you remember when we met King Endymion and he told us why he sent those dreams? He said he was testing our love bond, right? To make sure that our love was strong and true in order to face the challenges of the future."

Mamoru sighed as he recalled the scene. "'An unflinching, faithful love that remains strong, no matter what happens.' I believe that's what he said."

"So maybe it's the same as before," she said, resting her hand on his knee. "We can overcome this by proving our love."

"How can we do that if I can barely touch you?"

"If you can barely touch me . . ." Usagi bit her lip as she considered their options, then felt her cheeks redden as a thought came to her. She stared at him for a few moments before nodding to herself, a look of resolve settling on her face. If this was to help her Mamo-chan, she was willing to do just about anything.

"Mamo-chan, could I try something?"

"I . . . I don't know, what is it?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course I do, Usa . . ."

She took a deep breath, then began unfastening her shirt buttons before her courage left her.

"What are you doing, Usa?" Mamoru asked, backing away from her.

"Mamo-chan, please . . ." she said, opening her shirt fully to reveal the lacy white bra beneath, "please watch me. Please, for me, OK?"

Mamoru nodded mutely. Unable to look away, he watched as Usagi stripped off of her shirt and started to unzip her skirt. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as desire shot straight to his groin at her actions.

"Mamo-chan," she said as she shimmied out of her skirt, "you don't have to touch me, not if you don't want to. But I want you to see me—the real me."

He swallowed thickly, doing his best to ignore the mental sirens that were starting their unwanted song.

Usagi reached behind her back to unsnap her bra, then, after a moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath and it too was undone and tossed aside.

"Look at me, Mamo-chan . . ." she told him, as if he could do anything else. His eyes were glued to her; desire, anticipation, and dread flooding his veins.

She took another deep breath, knowing that there was no going back after this. Then, she slid her thumbs down to hook them around the sides of her panties, pulling them down her hips, shifting her body to fully pull them off.

Usagi watched as Mamoru took in her naked form, his hungry eyes devouring her even as his body remained rigid. She could sense the anxiety and fear in him, but he was still there, watching, just as she had hoped, and it thrilled her.

"Do you know what happens when I dream of you? Of us?" she said, tracing her fingers down her full breasts.

He shook his head, his eyes still fastened to her.

"When I dream of the things we used to do . . . the way you used to touch me . . ." Her breath hitched as she began massaging her breasts, running her fingers over her hard nipples as she visualized some of the erotic dreams she'd had recently.

"What . . . what are you doing?" Mamoru asked, his heart racing.

"Maybe you can't touch me," Usagi explained, slowly moving one hand down her stomach, "but I can touch myself."

Usagi shifted, spreading her legs to give herself better access as her hand moved lower.

"I want you to see, Mamo-chan." She closed her eyes as her fingers reached their destination. She heard Mamoru's heavy breath and felt his eyes on her, watching her, burning her up. She was quickly becoming slick with desire as she imagined Mamoru's hand in place of her own, touching her. "Do you see what thinking of you does to me?"

Her eyes fluttered as she tested her wetness, which quickly coated her fingertips. Back and forth she rubbed, at first feather light but soon with more purpose, spreading her slick juices along her seam while teasing her nipple with her other hand, her breathing growing labored as her passion grew.

Mamoru watched as she pleasured herself, feeling more turned on than he ever thought possible. His head felt fuzzy as his desire battled the sirens for domination, and every gasp and moan that crossed Usagi's lips helped his internal struggle. And now, knowing exactly why the sirens had been haunting him, he was more desperate than ever for them to go.

Usagi's head fell back as she continued to touch herself, revealing a long white neck flushed with desire—a neck begging to be ravaged, he thought with a shock. As her face twisted in pleasure, he was reminded with a jolt of the times they used to make love with abandon among the roses of Elysion—memories he had carefully sealed away years ago but were now flooding his senses; memories of the musky smell of her desire, the taste of her sweet honey, the feel of her surrounding him as he buried herself inside of her . . .

He sucked in his breath as something deep within him snapped.

"Usa," he choked out, reaching out a hand to still her movements. "Please . . ."

Raising her head, Usagi looked at him, her eyes full of concern through her haze of pleasure.

"Mamo-chan?" she managed to get out through ragged breaths.

"Usa," Mamoru repeated, swallowing thickly, "please." He leaned over her, running a finger down her open leg. "Let me . . ."

She fell back with a sigh and the hint of a smile on her lips as Mamoru finally overcame his lingering demons and gave in to his desire.

He slowly licked along the neck he had been admiring, tasting the saltiness of her skin as his fingers traced closer and closer to her aching sex. He felt her shudder beneath his touch as he teased her, running his fingers along her upper thigh in light circles as she clung to him, her fingers biting into his arm.

Nibbling his way up her neck and along her jaw, he finally reached her lips to give her a searing kiss. Then, breaking the connection, he leaned back to admire her fully, wanting nothing more than to watch her come undone once he finally touched her.

"Mamo-chan, please . . ." she begged as she moved her hips in an attempt to get Mamoru's fingers where she wanted them.

He smirked as he lightly brushed her slick folds, earning a gasp from his beloved that shot straight through him. Feeling bold, he settled his palm against her mound and began to please her in earnest, slicking his fingers with her wetness before picking up where she left off, rubbing and teasing. As aroused as she had already been, it didn't take much effort for her to be writhing beneath him.

When he flicked the pad of his thumb over her clit, she gasped, her face alight with pleasure. He smiled down at her, watching her face change once again as he slipped a finger inside of her and stroked her slick walls. The moan he elicited then was deep and long, so unlike any sound he'd heard her make before. And when he worked his clever finger inside of her and ran his thumb over her clit at the same time . . . well, Mamoru wasn't exactly sure what types of noises Usagi was making as she rode his hand, aside from the fact that they were very good noises.

Soon her breaths were coming shorter, her moans coming quicker as she thrashed, tearing at his arm with her fingers in mindless pleasure. Finally, throwing her head back, she gasped as she came hard, her body seizing below him.

He desperately tried to sear the moment into his memory—the sight of the woman he loved utterly wrecked by his touch. She was flushed and sweaty and her hair was coming undone, but she had never looked more beautiful. It was better than any dream, any memory, for this was real and now and _them_. And after his fingers had brought her to peak again and she shakily pushed his hand away, he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, kissing and nibbling as she came down from her high.

"Mamo-chan," she said after her breathing steadied, "I love you."

He smiled at her, looking flushed and sated and so unbelievably sexy beneath him, and leaned down to kiss her.

"I love you too, Usa."

He bent down and kissed her again, and it wasn't long before things between them grew heated once more. Soon her hands were wandering, grasping at his shoulders and hair, tugging at the hem of his shirt, which he quickly discarded. She bit her lip as she ran her palms up and down his toned chest, savoring the feel of his bare chest.

"Mamo-chan," she said as one of her hands wandered lower to hover over the rock-hard boner still encased in his pants, "may I . . . ?"

"Yes," he said, nodding frantically.

She giggled, then lightly ran her finger along the bulge, causing Mamoru to shudder above her.

"Why don't you lean back?" she suggested and he complied, shifting back onto the couch cushions as she crawled over him and began fumbling to undo his belt and pants. He reached down to help her, and was soon shimmying out of his pants, leaving just his straining boxer briefs between them.

Usagi reached out, experimentally trailing her fingers down his bulge. Mamoru hissed, leaning back into the couch. Feeling bolder, she palmed the outline of his dick more firmly, eliciting a moan from Mamoru. She moved her hand up and down, marveling at the way his dick twitched and throbbed as she teased and touched him, taking pleasure in the tortured sounds he was making. She started slowly but soon sped up until Mamoru grasped her wrist, stilling her movements.

"Careful, Usa," he said between breaths.

"I'm sorry Mamo-chan," she said as she pulled her hand away. "Did it not feel good?"

"It felt a little too good," he said, reaching out to cup her face reassuringly. "You have to go easy on me."

She smiled, once again placing her hand on him. "Like this?" she asked as she stroked him slowly but firmly.

"Y-yes," he said through clenched teeth.

"Why don't you take these off?" she said, tugging at his underwear.

Mamoru nearly tripped as he tried to rid himself of them as quickly as possible.

As he sat back down Usagi settled beside him, gazing at his hard cock. Though she had memories of Endymion's, finally seeing Mamoru's in the flesh was so much better. Simply put, he was perfectly breathtaking—and not a curve in sight.

But, more important, Usagi understood the enormous amount of faith and trust that Mamoru had placed in her to get to that point. What they had overcome that day blew Usagi away, and she was determined to show her gratitude.

She reached out, wrapping her hand around him. She marveled at the feel of him as she slowly pumped her hand up and down—how he could be so hard and yet feel so velvety smooth at the same time. Gradually she began experimenting, switching her grip and speed, tracing a finger around his head or along his shaft as he thrust into her hand. Every hiss and groan electrified her, urging her to continue.

Then, as Mamoru's breathing grew more ragged and his hips picked up speed, she leaned down to take him in her mouth, sucking him and swirling the tip of his dick with her tongue like a lollipop. Mamoru groaned, threading his fingers through her already-mussed hair.

"Oh god," he gasped. "Usa . . . I'm gonna come . . ." he warned her, but she only sucked harder. He groaned as he came, and Usagi drank him up as he spilled into her mouth until nothing was left. She was surprised at the taste—like saltwater taffy. He was a delicious treat.

Licking her lips she sat back up to find Mamoru utterly undone, still breathing heavily and collapsed, boneless, against the couch. She grinned and snuggled against him, feeling more content than she had in months as she listened to his breathing steady. They sat in silence, simply enjoying being near one another in the afterglow of their love.

"Mamo-chan?" Usagi said after a few moments.

"Hmm?" he responded without opening his eyes.

"Thank you," she said as she rested her hand against his chest, "for trusting me today."

"Usa," he said, enveloping her hand with his, "I will never doubt you again."

As he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, her stomach let out a loud gurgle.

"Hungry?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah . . . I was pretty nervous earlier so I didn't really eat much at lunch."

Mamoru squeezed her hand, feeling guilty knowing that he was the cause of her nerves.

"How about we head to Crown and I get you anything you want?"

"Really?" she said, sitting up straight. "Anything?"

He chuckled. "Anything your heart desires, Usa."

She threw her arms around him, kissing him in thanks, then kissing him again because the first wasn't enough, and again and again just because she wanted to.

They would get to Crown . . . eventually.

* * *

"So then I told him, you like a shaved bush so much? Here's a razor. Start with your own."

Motoki snorted, shaking his head at Minako's tale. It had been a slow Sunday at Crown, but Minako was always willing to keep him entertained.

"Bet that shut him up," he said.

"Sure did." She smirked, stirring her milkshake with her straw. "Fuckboys are so predictable."

Motoki looked up at the sound of the arcade's doors opening. He smiled when he recognized Mamoru and Usagi, then did a double take when he realized his notoriously anti-PDA friend had his arm draped across his girlfriend's shoulder.

"Minako, check it out," he said, flicking his head toward the couple.

She turned on her barstool, freezing when she caught sight of her friends.

"Holy shit . . ." she whispered as a devious smile spread across her face.

"Guess they worked things out, huh?"

But Minako was already leaping off of her seat, grabbing a startled Usagi by the hand.

"Bathroom! Now!" she said, pulling her from Mamoru's grasp.

"Wait!" Usagi wailed as she was dragged to the ladies' room. "A cheeseburger! Motoki, I need a cheeseburger! And fries! And a chocolate—"

Her order was cut off as the bathroom door slammed shut.

Motoki smirked as Mamoru approached the counter and casually took a seat.

"Coffee, please, Motoki."

Motoki filled a mug as screeching emanated from the bathroom.

"So . . . how's it going?" he asked as he handed Mamoru the mug.

Mamoru smiled, taking a sip of coffee. "Good."

"Good, huh?"

"Yep. Good."

Motoki sighed. "Look, are you gonna give me details or do I have to wait to hear them from Minako?"

He turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening again, revealing a blushing Usagi and a very satisfied Minako.

"C'mon Mamo-chan," Usagi said as she reached his side, "let's go sit over there." She pointed to a secluded booth in the far corner of the arcade.

He wordlessly grabbed his mug, dutifully following her as she led him away from their friends.

"Oh and Motoki," she said, turning toward him for a moment, "make that fries, a chocolate shake, and _two_ cheeseburgers. I really worked up an appetite today."

"You got it, Usagi."

He punched in her order, then looked over to the couple as they snuggled in their booth, giggling and whispering to each other. He shook his head, hardly believing his eyes.

"OK, Minako," he said, resuming his spot across from her. "Spare no detail."

"Oh, Motoki," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Have I got a story for you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I cannot BELIEVE no one has said anything about the connection between the title and the Madonna-whore complex. S.M.H. (J/K I LOVE ALL OF YOU PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!)
> 
> Seriously though, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who encouraged me with this story. I can hardly believe so many people like it! ^^; I hope the more serious tone of this chapter didn't leave anyone high and dry. Writing this chapter was a lot tougher than the previous chapters, but I hope it delivered. (PS Do you have any idea how nerve-racking it is trying to work on a lemon at a coffee shop? I set the font as low as I could reasonably see and I was still sweating bullets!)
> 
> Also thank you to the two amazing women who helped me with this chapter. Who better to give feedback on smut than an actual sexpert, FloraOne? And Antigone2, thank you for the epilogue suggestion. It made this chapter so much better!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to FloraOne, my beta on this, for your support and enthusiasm of this truly idiotic fic.


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